


Happiness Hit Her (Like a Bullet in the Back)

by weonlyliveonce



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Best Friends, F/M, Felicity loves Oliver, Love Story, Military, Oliver Returns Home, nerf war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-30 03:13:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5148173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weonlyliveonce/pseuds/weonlyliveonce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They've been best friends for nine years, she may have developed some...tangled feelings for him over the last eight and all of that should have told her that this hadn't been the best idea she'd ever had. (Alternate Universe)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happiness Hit Her (Like a Bullet in the Back)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, massive note because...well, so many explanations are needed. Starting with where I've been and I've been struggling with a massive case of Writer's Block. And it's Writer's Block across the board, not just with writing fiction. I've hit a blank with everything, including Uni work which is actually sort of frightening because if ever I've needed to be creative, it's this semester. And I just...have nothing. So, I've been studiously chipping away at everything and I'm posting two stories and two chapters to "Some People Care too Much" and, trust me, this has taken me, like six months to write all of them.
> 
> Which is ridiculous but there it is, a massive case of Writer's Block happening and I hope that I can kick it soon. Probably after this semester. Maybe. 
> 
> So I'm really sorry guys! 
> 
> So, yeah, basically Writer's Block = Not that Great Work. Of which this is some. I think I wrote this to prove to myself I could still write. It's certainly not my greatest work and it's long but I had to prove to myself I could write something and finish it. It's got like seven hundred separate ideas that I melded into one, so, yeah, the tone is massively off but I finished it and proved I can actually write over three thousand words to myself. So, not overly in love with this but, I thought I'd post it anyway even if it's not my best. 
> 
> Head's up, I literally know nothing about the military. Apart from what I googled and...well, that's my preface I really don't know and I sincerely hope you forgive errors and, most likely, the unrealistic presentation of it. So, I apologize for that.
> 
> But, I hope you enjoy this, anyway!
> 
> Oh! And title comes from Florence + the Machines awesome song ‘Dog Days are Over.’

Felicity had known this was going to be a bad idea.

She just hadn’t realized _how_ bad of an idea it was going to be, right up until she was hiding behind a door near the foyer of Queen Manor, a firm grip on her weapon and absolute silence surrounding her. The silence isn’t even what’s really getting to her; it’s the _stillness_ that’s buoyed by the silence that’s freaking her out.

Felicity knows stillness can mean only one thing; someone is waiting patiently to pounce.

They’re just hidden somewhere; stillness radiating from them, ready to take her out and it’s actually really quite terrifying. The stillness is enough for Felicity to readjust her grip on her weapon and take several deep breaths, calming her racing heart.

By the last breath, Felicity feels like she’s gained enough courage to take a peek around the door.

She knows, intellectually, that looking probably won’t actually do a lot because her opponent is better than good at concealing themselves but, well, Felicity knows too that she can’t hide behind the door forever.

Her gaze sweeps the foyer, eyes hitting upon various, _empty_ , hiding places and Felicity knows she has to make a call whether to move or not. The sweeping staircase that leads from the second level down to the foyer is her best bet out of the foyer, with Felicity knows she might have to make a run for it.

She withdraws behind the door again, gnawing at her lip because she’s not entirely sure making a move right now is the best idea. But, again, she can’t keep hiding behind a door.

It’s only after a few seconds of internal debate that Felicity decides she needs to get up the stairs, to higher ground and then continue moving from there.

She’s not a strategist or anything but she knows that the second floor holds greater opportunities for hiding and plotting her next move.

Gripping her weapon even more tightly, Felicity takes another deep breath, looks around the door again and, glancing around the foyer, decides it’s now or never.

She moves as quickly and silently as possible, her stocking clad feet on the floorboards silent, her tight red skirt, restrictive but functional, slides silently against her legs and Felicity actually thinks that she’s going to make the staircase and higher ground.

She could actually make it.

Maybe the stillness meant that they hadn’t figure out where she was hiding and she might make it.

It’s a glimmer of positive thought brought on by how close she is to the staircase and, the second Felicity hears the whooshing sound of someone dropping from whichever hiding place they’d occupied, she knows that it was premature.

Felicity spins frantically, her finger on the trigger of her gun as the intruder raises their weapon and takes aim. Felicity’s mid-squeeze when she’s hit and she realizes her opponent was quicker on the trigger.

The barrage of bullets _hurt_ and Felicity yelps as they hit her squarely in the chest, some right above her heart, causing her arm to jerk in reaction as she fires.

She misses.

Completely.

So completely, in fact, that her best friend of nine years stares at her in amused shock as he rises to his full height, the Nerf bow that was his choice of weapon, clutched casually in his hand.

Felicity scowls at him as she lowers her own Nerf gun and he raises an eyebrow.

“I win. Want another game?” He asks with a shadow of a grin.

“ _No_. Jerk-face winner.” She snaps petulantly and he just looks at her, his beautiful blue eyes set into a face that was a type of manly beautiful – complete with man scruff and a jawline that wouldn’t quit – incredibly amused.

Oliver Queen doesn’t raise his hands in victory nor does he seem to be considering gloating, he doesn’t have to, those amused eyes say it all. The amusement is somewhat smug and Felicity suppresses the urge to stick her tongue out at him, as he slowly straightens to his full height of six-foot something, his body muscled and ready for action.

Which just irritates Felicity because, normally, she would curb her impulse to challenge him to anything like a Nerf war, based just on the way he looks.

Oliver Queen was always built but right now, nine years after their first meeting, he’s more than built. He’s _unbelievably_ ripped and it shows in pretty much everything he does.

Apparently, being an ex-member of an incredibly classified Special Forces unit means that you become incredibly ripped.

Not that she’s going to say that Oliver. Because that might indicate just how closely she examines him whenever she sees him and just _how_ much she appreciates the build he’s developed during his time in Special Forces.

Not that she thinks he’d shares his training techniques with her, he’s not quite on the bandwagon of _talking_ about his time in Special Forces. He makes this face, Felicity like calling it Grumpy Face, and then changes the subject if someone brings it up.

Some of that’s Oliver and what Felicity suspects is some deeply embedded mental scars and the other is, well, he’s been ordered not to talk about it and he’s taken that order seriously.

Surprising given that the first time she met him, Felicity had been absolutely positive there was nothing a twenty-two-year Oliver Queen would take seriously.

The first time they’d met, he’d been a drunken bratty billionaire, in the process of failing out of his third – or fourth? She could never get a straight answer out of him about that – college and been incredibly cheerful in doing so. _She’d_ been the poor twenty-year-old waitress, working her way through MIT with no intention of failing out, tasked with getting him out of the restaurant she worked at.

Felicity had managed to do so – how she will _absolutely_ never know – and had wound up with a friend in the process.

A friend who had matured from a bratty billionaire with no direction, who had this bizarre habit of acting on impulse and had dragged her through increasingly insane schemes, right up until he showed up at her door, a year into their friendship, to announce he’d joined the military.

Felicity had been convinced it had been an elaborate prank he’d decided to play on her until he’d grown uncharacteristically serious and she’d realized that, well, maybe not.

He’d gone from bratty billionaire, always looking for a good time, to brooding, battle hardened man who smiled occasionally and, if the last few years are anything to go by, was haunted by what happened every time he was deployed.

Haunted is a good word for the Oliver of today, one Felicity found she could apply more and more to her friend every time he returned and his eyes filled with more and more secrets.

It’s something that she hasn’t commented on because, somehow, Felicity doubts he’ll be any more receptive to it than that one time his mother tried to bring it up and he slept on her couch for, like, a week.

Which had, it turned out, not been a great thing for her and the tangle of feelings she’s had for him since, maybe, the second year of friendship.

Feelings that have only become increasingly more tangled as the years have gone by and Oliver has grown…into the man he’s become.

And, apparently, the man he’s become is one that is incredibly good at Nerf wars.

“Come on, let’s go get a drink.” Oliver says, thankfully oblivious to her thoughts and Felicity scowls at him again. For appearances sake. “Raise made some of that honey cake you like.” He adds enticingly because he knows her so well and it makes Felicity huff dramatically.

Which makes him smile and that thrilled feeling return with a vengeance.

“Well, if there’s honey cake…” Felicity trails off, making a show of just how reluctant she is to join him because he _won_.

It makes Oliver snort, “and there’s that tea blend that you like. Russian whatever. And Diet Coke. Don’t pretend you know that’s not involved in your decision.”

They’re already moving towards the kitchen as he talks and Felicity shoves his shoulder in mock outrage.

“Excuse me, I don’t come here just for the food!” She exclaims and, when Oliver raises his eyebrow, adds cheekily. “There’s also the theatre room, the library, the _amazing_ beds…there are so many things that I come here for other than the food.”

Oliver rolls his eyes and Felicity can see he’s choosing not to comment because he knows, absolutely, that this is the first time she’s been to Queen Manor since his last…mission? Assignment? Tour?

She’s not entirely what to call it but it’s true.

It’s been eighteen months since she stepped into Oliver’s family home and he is absolutely aware of that. She’s not pulling anything over his eyes and Felicity bets that has everything to do with his sister, Thea, and her big mouth.

She’d never quite wanted Oliver to know that she had a hard time going to his home when he wasn’t there. Felicity isn’t sure if she’ll ever admit to him the reason why because she’s not entirely sure herself.

It’s tangled up with it being a place of farewell, a happy place where they’ve shared so much and a place she’s terrified she’d have to return to in order to mourn him.

It’s confusing, much like all those other tangled feelings she has for him, and Felicity doesn’t think she’ll ever really make sense of it but Oliver doesn’t need to know that.

So, she avoids the topic and, as they reach the kitchen, she ambles over to the kitchen island and hoists herself up onto it.

Which takes her two tries because, well, she’s not as tall as people assume – thanks to the ridiculous high heels she’d taught herself to walk in – and she’s not _quite_ as athletic as she’d like to think she is.

Thankfully, Oliver has his back to her when her first attempt fails and, when he turns around, she’s in the process of letting her blond waves out, so she can pull it up again.

Felicity pretends to not notice the way Oliver’s eyes darken when he sees the blond cascade down her back.

But she does notice.

It’s hard not to.

“You let it grow out.” He observes quietly and Felicity shrugs a little.

“Well, yeah. It…the last time they cut it, they cut it _too_ short, you know? Like, it was edging too close to being a bob and tying it up was becoming a _pain_ because it would all just fall out and it was just easier to let it grow out. Until it was this length, like – ” Felicity stops herself before she says ‘how you like it’ but is pretty sure that Oliver knows what she was about to say, anyway.

His face takes on this expression that Felicity can’t really describe and, instead of tying her hair up like she intends, Felicity finds herself twirling it around a finger nervously.

Because the tensions back, like it had never really left them in the first place.

She honestly doesn’t know what to make of it, this tension that’s existed between them since Oliver left the service, since he came home from his last deployment and announced he was back in Star City for good.

He’s literally only been back in Star City for like, two weeks, and it’s just…it’s just _there_.

Felicity has never experienced something like it in her entire life. It crackles between them in a way that’s almost palpable, as if the fact that Felicity had tried to distract them from it had only made it more potent.

This tension has never existed between them before. It’s confusing and a little bit scary given that their entire friendship has been predicated on the fact that they both feel so _comfortable_ around each other and have from the moment they met.

Though they were a friendship of opposites – Oliver, irresponsible and bright who slowly turned brooding and rather dark, Felicity shy and responsibly to bright and slightly more outgoing – they’d just _worked._ They had never had to handle this weird tension that’s between them, right now.

Felicity’s pretty sure of that and now that it’s back, it’s somehow _worse_.

Maybe it’s more potent because, for at least forty minutes, they’d forgotten about it but its back now and Felicity just…she really doesn’t know what to do with herself or with Oliver now that it’s returned.

This tension is making things _complicated_ between them in a way that she’s never faced in the nine years they’ve been friends.

Oh, sure, there have been _complications_ – like, ex-girlfriends, ex-boyfriends, and friends with opinions and even, at one point, their families interfering – but never complications that amount to this weird tension between them.

Not even the tangle of her feelings for him – which, depending on her mood seems to swing between ‘possibly-probably-madly-in-love’ and ‘really-really- _really-_ best-friend’ – has ever bought this on.

That could possibly be because Oliver doesn’t actually _know_ about her feelings but, still, if he did, it could explain these feelings.

Well, it’s not entirely true Oliver doesn’t know about them…there may have been a moment of weakness last time he was home but Felicity’s pretty sure he didn’t hear her.

He was asleep. She thinks.

“Felicity?”

“Hmm?” Felicity hums and then realizes Oliver’s staring at her quizzically. “Oh, sorry. What?”

Oliver chuckles. “Just…you were doing that crinkly thing with your eyebrows?”

Oh, god, she’s so not going to tell Oliver what she was thinking. But that doesn’t mean Felicity’s gotten any better at the quick thinking when she doesn’t know what she wants to say.

“Nothing. I mean, I wasn’t thinking about anything. I was just…thinking.” Felicity then makes a face and decides to change the topic. “So…when do you start your new job?”

Oliver as he hands her a can of Diet Coke and raises his own bottle of water to his lips as he shrugs his shoulders and leans against the counter opposite where she’s sitting.

“Digg’s giving me a couple more weeks to get myself…sorted and then he’s bringing me in. He just wants to make sure I’m situated and acclimatized. Should be good.” Oliver says, not expanding further because he knows she knows everything possible about hid new job, so Felicity just nods.

John Diggle was Oliver’s commanding officer while he was in the military and, as far as Felicity knows, they’d entered into a bromance after an incident Oliver doesn’t talk about.

As far as Felicity knows, John Diggle left the military before Oliver and, when he’d found out Oliver was leaving too, he’d offered Oliver a job, working in private security alongside him.

Felicity thought it was sweet.

Oliver, she knows, was just relived the job he was walking into after returning had absolutely nothing to do with the billion dollar company his family owned.

Still, as nice as it is, Felicity has one small issue with this.

“When do I get to meet the mysterious Diggle, then? Because I want to. I mean…you two have had the bromance of the century since you met him and I’ve never met him and now you’re working with him. What if you decide he’s a better friend – ” Felicity’s cut off because Oliver chuckles at her words and she gets that tingly feeling all over again.

She likes this tingly feeling. It’s…warming and just, well, it’s rather _stimulating_ and she likes it even more because it’s caused by Oliver’s chuckle.

Felicity opens her mouth, to continue she guesses but she’s not sure what she’s going to say and then it all gets caught in her throat because Oliver’s eyes have suddenly grown serious.

Which is probably a good thing because Felicity’s pretty sure she might mention tingly feelings and she’s not sure how that will go down.

So, she snaps her mouth shut and tries to concentrate on Oliver’s face, which turns out to be harder than she thought because there’s something about his serious face that just… _does_ things to her.

“No-one could replace you, Felicity. No-one.” Oliver says quietly and Felicity blinks at how deep his tone of voice is. “You are too important to me. You always have been.”

Well.

Well, that’s just…an unexpected response to her half joking question about John Diggle and Felicity doesn’t know what to say because it was unexpected.

And that tension has suddenly ratcheted up like, seven hundred notches and Oliver’s got his serious face on and those feelings, the confusing tangle Felicity has refused to identify for a good eight years, blooms in her chest.

This, right here, is what she wanted to avoid because Felicity’s had this niggling feeling that she’s not going to be able to avoid it for much longer. Not now that Oliver’s back for good.

It was easier before. When she saw him sporadically and, sometimes, their only form of communication was an email every couple of months and every time he returned in the flesh, she was just _so_ grateful to have him back, more or less whole, that she could ignore them.

Except for that one time, eighteen months ago, when he’d let it slip about a life-or-death situation that he’d been involved in and she had _freaked out_.

She’d freaked out so much she’d told his sleeping form exactly what she felt for him, in the least confusing way possibly.

Felicity likes to think that by telling a sleeping Oliver she loved him, like properly and with hearts and _things_ , she’d successfully untangle her feelings and at least, some subconscious part of him would know how she felt.

It hadn’t worked, exactly. If anything, those feelings had grown more tangled and just _more_ in a way that was rather frightening because Felicity knew that what she felt for Oliver?

Was _more_ than anything she would ever feel for someone, ever again and that was scary.

And now that the object of those feelings was back in close proximity and winning at Nerf Wars and watching her curiously, Felicity is just scared of what’s going to happen next.

Because this tension is telling her that something will. She just doesn’t know what and it’s become a mystery.

Felicity _hates_ mysteries.

“Well, that’s good to know.”

Oliver makes this sound in the back of his throat at her very lame attempt to continue the conversation and Felicity watches as his face becomes thoughtful, like his considering something.

Given that he’s looking at her, Felicity’s pretty sure he’s considering something to do with her and it makes her nervous.

So, she takes a sip of her drink and shifts her eyes to this spot above his shoulder, concentrating _really hard_ on the shiny splash back behind the gas stove.

“Felicity,” Oliver starts, thoughtfully, she thinks. “Do you remember the last time I came home? When I slept on that ridiculously uncomfortable thing you call a couch?”

Felicity gasps, offended at his blatant disregard for her couch and she scowls at him. She _likes_ that couch. It was one from her first apartment, before Queen Consolidated decided she was too good to be an IT grunt and had given her a raise and a role in their Applied Sciences division.

It’s a memento of an earlier time.

“Hey! I like that couch!” She exclaims in offense and Oliver raises an eyebrow.

“You do not. You hate that couch, you just won’t get rid of it for reasons that make no sense.” Oliver tells her, rather fondly and Felicity makes a sound of disagreement before he continues. “That’s not the point. Do you remember me coming to stay?”

Felicity pauses for a second because there is no way she’s going to tell Oliver she remembers it vividly. For reasons other than the ones he’s thinking of.

That last time had been when she’s made the confession to his sleeping form and he’d had a fight with his mother because he’d refused to spend his leave at Queen Manor, preferring her uncomfortable couch to his bed.

Which made no sense to her, at the time but she’d refrained from arguing with him about it because she knew just how trying his mother could be.

And that’s Felicity being polite about the formidable Queen matriarch, Moira.

“Yes. How could I forget? You managed to fix everything that was wrong in my apartment and abuse all my technology so thoroughly, they had to go to hospital.

Oliver rolls his eyes and Felicity resists the urge to stick her tongue out at him. He did do all of that and her poor tablet; she didn’t think it would ever recover from how rough he was with it.

“That’s not what I mean. Do you remember the last night?”

Felicity suddenly gets the feeling that Oliver trying to lead her somewhere with his questioning and she eyes him curiously.

“Yes? We ate pizza, I made you watch _Iron Man_ and you fell asleep on the couch you claim is uncomfortable.” Felicity says, refraining from telling him she then admitted her feelings to his sleeping form. “Why?”

Oliver sets his water down on the bench and steps closer to her, Felicity blinks at the concentration on his face and she sets down her own drink as Oliver takes another step toward her. He’s so close Felicity’s pretty sure her knees will graze his abs as she tilts her head, only slightly because the bench has put them basically face to face, so she can see his eyes clearly.

“Felicity, I need to tell you something and I don’t want you to freak out, okay?” Oliver breathes and Felicity can only nod, a little dumbly.

Because there’s something incredible about his eyes right now, they’re dark and focused directly on her. That tension they’ve shared is beginning to bubble and Felicity doesn’t know what’s happening, exactly, but it’s leaving her warm and breathless all over.

“I wasn’t asleep.”

He murmurs it, the words washing over her and Felicity only has a moment to register what he’s said before Oliver’s kissing her.

And, _oh_.

This is what it’s like to kiss Oliver. The kiss is gently and steady and Oliver’s hand rises to cup her jaw and Felicity grips his shirt to pull him closer as she kisses him back.

It’s _wonderful._

So, when Oliver pulls away, Felicity finds herself following him, kissing him again, not wanting the contact to end. He huffs in amusement, obliging her and Felicity feels his other hand slide down to her, waist, spanning it and holding onto her tightly.

When she finally pulls away, they stare at each for a moment.

A very long moment where Felicity can only bask in _Oliver_ and how, well, pleased he looks as his thumb runs over her jaw and she can only think about the press of his lips because that _just happened_.

“That just happened, right?” She asks softly and Oliver nods, thumb still gently tracing her jaw.

“Yes. That just happened.”

“And you weren’t asleep?” Felicity asks, a little dreamily and Oliver’s pleased look becomes slightly apprehensive.

Felicity has no idea why until she actually thinks about what he admitted.

“You _weren’t asleep?”_ She nearly shrieks it and Oliver winces. “What do you mean you _weren’t asleep?_ ” Felicity demands and Oliver shrugs his shoulders.

“Well, I was. Kind of. You…moved and I’m not good with sleeping through movement.”

Felicity feels the blush spreading and she hits his shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me you were awake!?”

“Because if I had, you wouldn’t have said anything.” Oliver tells her seriously and then he sighs. “I was and then you started talking and you were saying everything I…wanted to hear and I knew if you woke up, you would never have spoken to me again.”

Felicity groans and drops her head onto his shoulder, forcing Oliver to drop his hand from her face as she hiding her face and her embarrassment. She thinks Oliver presses a kiss to her hair and tries to not shiver as she thinks about what he’s saying.

“What do you mean, wanted to hear?” She asks, her voice muffled and Oliver sighs. “Oliver?”

“Thea told me you didn’t know.” Oliver says and Felicity raises her head to eye him and he offers her a half-smile. “Come on, Felicity. You have to know that I feel the same way. Why else do you think you were the only person outside my family I ever wanted to see when I came home?”

Felicity stares at him because; well, she never thought of it like that and maybe she should have but she’s always been so caught in her own feelings, she’d honestly never thought to question Oliver’s.

And how stupid is that?

“Really?” She whispers and Oliver nods solemnly.

He seems to pause for a minute, as if questioning whether or not he should say what he wants to say next and Felicity decides to wait him out.

Because this might be important.

“Knowing…knowing how you felt, the last tour, it helped.” He says haltingly. “I was coming home after that, absolutely but, mostly, I was coming home to _you_ and the certainty that you felt the same way. You always helped, Felicity, but knowing I had to come home to tell you how I feel? That got me through because I didn’t want you to think, for any longer, that I don’t feel the same way.”

Felicity’s staring at Oliver because there are so many things he’s not saying and she can hear them all but, mostly, all she can hear is how much she means _to him_. Given that she honestly never thought he would feel about her the way she feels about him, Felicity feels overwhelmed and there’s this bursting feeling in her stomach, that’s bubbling away and Felicity thinks it might be a tentative, kind of permanent happiness.

“Oliver, oh my God, that’s…I can’t believe this is….you swear?” Felicity stumbles over her sentences because she doesn’t know how else to respond as she stares at him.

Oliver chuckles. “Trust me, I swear I feel the same way. It’s not going to change, I had years to change my mind and I never did. You were the most important thing in that last tour. Everyone knew it. Except you. And now you know.”

Felicity’s kissing him again before she can help herself because he doesn’t need to swear, not really. But the fact that he does and that he’s felt this for her nearly as long as she has just…it makes her so happy and she has to kiss him.

Oliver’s enthusiastic now, his mouth insistent as he presses against her, her arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer as his hands run up and down her sides. His tongue sweeps into her mouth and Felicity is pretty much helpless against him as her fingers scrub through the hair he’s kept militarily short.

She’s pulling away to gasp for air when he’s kissing her again, his arms suddenly wrapping tightly around her waist to pull her up and against him and Felicity lets out a little squeak as his mouth demands everything she has to offer and the hard plans of his body press into her soft curves.

“Oliver, Oliver, wait a second,” Felicity gasps a little as he pulls away, his eyes incredibly dark and Felicity is unbelievably turned on by the look in them. “I love you.”

She doesn’t say it with finesse or with a long explanation like the first; she gasps it out because he needs to know. She needs to say it and then they can…well, it looks like he’s ready to take her to his room really.

Oliver closes his eyes at her gasped words, his forehead suddenly dropping to hers and Felicity tightens her grip on his neck because she knows, intrinsically, that what she’s said _matters_ on a scale she probably doesn’t understand.

“I love you.”

His words are quiet and steady and sure and Felicity’s pretty sure that this is their starting off point. It’s their starting point for whatever’s going to happened next and she breathes out quietly.

“Okay. That’s good. What do we do now?” She asks and she feels Oliver’s shoulders move in a non-committal movement.

“I take you to dinner. We date, be together as a couple instead of friends. Love each other.” Oliver says seriously and Felicity smiles a little. She likes the sound of that. “It’s not going to be easy with me, Felicity but…I do love you.”

“I love you. And are you kidding me? You think it was easy that time you got arrested over the goat thing in Miami? Or watching you leave? Every time? I know it won’t be easy. But that’s okay. Because I have you and I love you and that’s our starting point, okay? Everything else, we take one day at a time.” She tells him seriously and Oliver nods, kissing her again and Felicity hums a little at the brush of his lips.

She doesn’t think it’s going to take long for her to get used to the press of his lips.

That thought just makes that blooming happiness gain strength and Felicity tries to wiggle closer to him, even though they’re pressed together as tightly as possible.

“Okay. Good.”

Felicity presses a kiss to his jaw because she can and asks, “so, we’re doing this?”

Oliver returns the kiss with a long one to her forehead and blows out a breath.

“Oh, yeah, we’re doing this."

Felicity shivers at the seriousness of his tone and then she hugs him because this is happening and she’s pretty sure she’s happy and excited and she doesn’t know when it would have happened if she hadn’t tried to bridge the tension with a Nerf War.

Which he won but whatever.

Felicity’s sure she got the better end of the deal.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this!


End file.
